Forced Resentment
by warperchick
Summary: The Autobots have lost against the Decepticons and now they are enslaved as breeders. With much of the faction dead, the remaining few are condemned to the treatment of their captors. Rape, mpreg, suicidal activity. Don't like, don't read. Rated M. R
1. Mercy

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Megatron straddled the Prime within the confinements on his private quarters; the great Prime was securely chained to the bedposts of the warlord's berth.

"I enjoy seeing you like this, Orion. So weak and useless, totally under my control." the warlord said, using the former designation of the other mech.

Megatron had another twisted grin as he carefully touched the chin of the mech beneath him and lifted it. Optimus's optics glittered dangerously as he glared at Megatron and he emitted a low growl. His dentas were bared; his facemask was removed.

"You will be a fine Carrier to the young you will bear for me." said Megatron. Optimus's faceplate did not falter. "Just imagine; the beautiful mechs I will Sire will be created by Cybertron's most powerful mechs, one being a Prime."

"And thus," Optimus finally spoke, "the Sire will be a tyrant mech who cannot give freedom to his own army or to the enemy army, yet will to his sons? Such shame of a great mech, such selfishness."

Megatron's grin fell and he struck the Prime with a hard fist to the jaw, "With time, Optimus, you will learn to keep your idiotic comments to yourself. I will not pardon you for your insolence."

"I do not ask of your pardons. As long as I live as your slave, may Primus have mercy on your spark because the day I bear creations to you, that very same day will be your greatest disappointment." Optimus breathed heavily, his jaw stinging.

"Silence!" Megatron stuck Optimus again with the back of his servo, "That day of which you speak will not happen because should it happen, I will terminate it before your very optics and frag your interface until it bleeds! I am not frightened of femmes, Optimus. They are weak and good for manipulating. Should you bear daughters, their dying cry will haunt you and I will not tire of ending their lives."

Optimus kept his composure intact, but those very words pinched his spark. He knew Megatron was capable of ending lives; he had done so countless times. But innocent lives? Child sparks? He said nothing in return to the warlord.

Megatron seemed satisfied with the Prime's silence and he removed himself from atop of him, "I have duties to attend."

He came close to the Prime's audio, "Process what I said, Optimus. Allow it to sink in. I am not afraid."

Optimus laid there without moving on the berth and stared at the ceiling as he listened to Megatron's pedefalls echo down the hall until they mixed with the silence. He whispered for him and the silence to hear. It was a small prayer, "Dear Primus, do not bring me creations to bear from Megatron. Have mercy on their innocence and keep my unborn in your arms."

…

Jazz snarled, his visor glowing brightly as his attempts to unstable Starscream became futile. His chestplates were forcefully pried open and their sparks were merged. The smaller mech howled as he felt the seeker overload into his valve; his transfluids met Jazz's gestation chamber. Starscream's release at the moment they merged had guaranteed the fruit of young. As Jazz lay limp on the floor, his weapons systems shut down and activated his carrying protocols. Starscream was trembling lightly as he saw the small single orb split into three and he smiled in success; Jazz now carried his seekerling trine. He let out a chuckle as he retracted his spark and concealed it, "See, Jazz? It was not that difficult."

The saboteur shut his chestplates with his spark behind the armor. His dentas were shown as he threatened the seeker, "When these chains are gone, Ay will keel ya regardless!"

Starscream laughed, "But you wear chains that of which you cannot escape from."

Jazz cringed in disgust as he felt the seeker pull out of him and he immediately shut his panel with a remark, "Go ta da Pits o' Unicron!"

"I've been there already, my dear." Starscream pet Jazz's cheek and the saboteur snapped his dentas at his digits. The seeker smiled, his red optics gleaming, "Your nature of violence will be the fuel that will drive my creations to triumph."

"Dey don' deserve ya as ay Sire! Ay lyin' heathen dat es onleh good fer keepin' his valve pretteh fer Megatron!" Jazz growled.

The seeker took his words into offense and his servos pressed onto Jazz's throat, "Silence, you fool! You know nothing!"

Jazz squirmed and the servo was removed. The saboteur growled at Starscream, "Keep dis up an' ya won't have meh er yer creations."

"then, hold you glossa and shut up." the seeker said as he lifted himself from his position and stood on his pedes. Jazz cautiously watched him as he made his way to the door, "I will return later, Autobot. I expect you to provide me with a pleasant frag."

"Ay'm sure Megatron es more satisfyin'." Jazz said with a cocky grin.

Starscream gave Jazz a glare before leaving his private quarters with a scowl.


	2. Losses Beyond Repair

Hi Readers! I'm sorry for erasing the previous version of Forced Resentment and I believe I owe an explanation.

**I had started writing the story my freshman year of high school and my writing capabilities were very poor. Over the span of two years, I had improved my writing and one day I reread Forced Resentment and I found that it was terribly written.**

**So now I'm writing it anew.**

**I have gotten several reviews on the first chapter and now I feel rather satisfied. Here is the second chapter and please read and review. Thanks guys!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Ratchet tried his best to keep his calm around the Decepticon doctor, but the gestalt was pushing the last few bits of patience that he had. So many times he had resisted the urge to whack Hook on the helm with one of his many finest wrenches, but he knew if he messed with one gestalt, he would meet the fists of the others. The Autobot CMO organized his tools and cleaned them, rubbing them vigorously and angrily with his cleaning rag. He could not believe Primus had forsaken them at the time of their need. The tragic fate that befell the Autobots, the deaths of so many fine mechs and soldiers, was something that was not suspected to happen. The Ark that housed them for many, many years no longer existed; the volcano was reduced to a crater with smaller holes surrounding it. Ratchet lost his comrades, his friends, his family. As cruel as it sounded to the audios of another Autobot, he wished that Primus would take his spark so that he no longer had to suffer and fight a lost war. His grief was too strong for him to bear on his shoulders day in and day out. Everything he felt… it attacked his spark…

"Crying? Again?" Hook's voice pulled Ratchet out of his reverie, "I was positive that the Autobot medic was not a sentimental bot."

Ratchet ignored him, not bothering to hide or clear the streaks of coolant. Hook frowned upon his silence and said, "Build a bridge and get over it, as the humans say. You useless Autobots weren't going to win the war either way. You are a bunch of soft mechs that believe in no rights."

Ratchet clenched his gleaming wrench.

"The Autobot downfall was inevitable, so quit sulking before I make you." said Hook.

"Losing mechs that were family is a hit to the spark that one cannot imagine. You and your gestalt are brothers; five sparks that came from one. Imagine losing one, or two, or three of them. Imagine losing something that someone created. All the hard labor and work it took to develop to be destroyed before their very optics. Unlike you, I witnessed my creations perish before me in my arms, every single one of them! I knelt on the ground with them in my arms as I felt what was left of them drain. I told them not to worry because when they awoke, the war would be over for them, no longer having to fight. You do not comprehend true loss because you have never felt it. Not you or any of your pathetic gestalt. My dinobots are dead because of you. Wheeljack is dead because of you. The many sparks I have saved are dead because of you. If you expect me to "build a bridge and get over it," I regret to inform you that will not happen within the next infinity because your Decepticon kind does not need of my apologies and sorrows. I have a spark; that of which you. All. Lack."

The outburst of the CMO left Hook appalled; he recovered soon afterwards and he responded, "Listen, here! You have not right to scream and shout how we are responsible for the deaths of your pathetic kind-"

"You dare say I have no right?!" Ratchet interrupted, his optics flashing red.

"I dare say!" Hook shoved Ratchet up the wall, holding his throat and squeezing tightly, "You are nothing more than a Decepticon slave! You are MY slave! As your master, I say you have no right!"

Ratchet coughed as the pressure increased on his throat and Hook let him suffer the slight desperation for a moment before finally releasing him. Ratchet slumped on the floor beneath Hook, allowing his ventilations to fill with air. Tears were not betrayed as they fell and streaked his cheeks in a light blue hue. He did not look up to see the disappointed faceplate of his master before he left Ratchet to his miseries.

Ratchet did not get up until the med bay doors opened several minutes later to admit Starscream with a very unpleased Jazz. The seeker sported a badly-bitten pair of lips while the saboteur had vicious bite marks on his neck.

"Well, well, Starscream. What happened?" asked Hook with a smile as he let out a chuckle, "Seems like you two passed a very fun time." He placed emphasis on the word fun.

Starscream was about to respond, but Jazz beat him to it, "Indeed weh did, and he went tah hard on da bites. Mah dear seeker should learn dat Ay hate hard bites."

"Shut up! If you have simply taken it and not bit me, perhaps you would have enjoyed it!" the seeker screeched.

"Like Ay would eva enjoy what ya call ay frag!" Jazz growled, yanking on his chains. "Ay'm sure dat Megatron provides ay better session. Ya should stay as da submissive character b'cause ya don' know how ta top!"

Starscream grabbed Jazz, slamming him into the wall of the med bay and he declared loudly, "You are nothing, but my toy! It is all you will ever be! My business with Megatron is professional, not his pleasure drone; you know nothing!"

"Exactly, Ay know nothin'! Fer all Ay care, ya could suck on his spike as he frags yer mouth! Bet he tastes good, eh? Ay sure wouldn't know!" the saboteur continued.

He pushed the seeker off the edge and the Air Commander threw him on the nearest med berth and clasped his servos around Jazz's neck and squeezed with all of his forces. Jazz squeaked and tried to kick Starscream off with no avail. Before Hook could do something, Ratchet reacted first and he threw his closest wrench at the seeker's helm; the impact was loud and it effectively sent the seeker into stasis. His rage boiled in his systems, but he brushed it aside for the moment, coming to Jazz's quick aid. He lifted Jazz and set him on the berth, briefly looking him over.

"Jazz, are you alright?" Ratchet asked as he gently touched Jazz's neck, inspecting them.

The smaller mech trembled lightly, groaning slightly as the bites stung. Yet, he nodded and said with a light croak, "Ay'm fine."

Before Ratchet could do anything further, Hook grabbed the CMO by the back of his armor and threw him down to the floor. Ratchet saw his wrench in the Decepticon's grasp and he attempted to block the incoming strike, but Hook's free servo grabbed his forearm, giving him open access, and he whacked Ratchet across his faceplate with heavy force. Jazz winced as he saw Ratchet take the hit and cringed at the pop that came from his comrade's jaw strut. Purple energon poured from the CMO's mouth and it pooled on the pristine floor. Ratchet whimpered in pain as he rolled over onto his side and curled up into a fetal position. An angry fire flared itself across his sensory net and it burned his faceplate. He could not gather the forces to lift himself from the floor; he feared that Hook would give him another slap with his wrench. Hook tossed the wrench next to Ratchet and he knelt down, cupping Ratchet's faceplate and giving his chin a firm squeeze. Ratchet let out a howl and as consequence, Hook tugged on his chin, pulling him close and he whispered to the whining mech, "Don't ever pull that stunt again."

Ratchet continued to whimper as Hook let him go and turned his attention to the seeker in stasis. The Decepticon medic added, "Pick your sorry carcass up and fix yourself. Then, clean the mess you have made on the floor. I will see to it that you will receive further punishment for your idiocy."

Jazz watched his comrade pick himself up off the floor; their gazes met, but Ratchet broke the contact. He watched the white and red mech saunter off towards the back of the med bay where he fixed his jaw with a sudden movement. He was able to hear the pop and the small cry the CMO made as he reset his jaw. The moment he heard Starscream screech, however, he internally groaned.

"Your putrid Autobot attacked me!" Starscream's screech echoed loudly within the walls of the med bay.

Hook growled, "That matter has been taken care of; I've dealt with him and hopefully he will learn to not repeat his mistake." Before Starscream could continue his screeching, Hook asked, "So tell me why you have brought that mech into my med bay."

Starscream stood up and leaned against the closest med berth, then spoke with much pride, "I want you to make sure that my seekerling are in healthy conditions."

Ratchet stumbled in his step as he arrived with a sponge and a bucket of cleansing solution. He caught Jazz's gaze and the CMO simply blinked in surprise. The saboteur's shoulders sagged as he hung his helm, confirming to his comrade. Ratchet watched Hook step towards Jazz and use his scanner to scan the black and white mech. As Ratchet stood frozen for a moment, Hook barked at Ratchet, "Clean up your mess."

Ratchet reluctantly did so.

* * *

**There we go folks, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter Three is in the process of being typed. Please be patient! Thanks guys, love you all!**

**Please R&R!**


	3. Broken Will

As I spent Christmas Break rewriting chapters, I realized that I seriously went more in-depth with the scenes. I also noticed that in this chapter, someone may be out of character due to desperation. Just let me know if I went too overboard with a possible OOC so I don't repeat a mistake. It would sure suck to get beat by a wrench to the face…

**Anyways, continue to read and thank you for the support.**

**Read and Review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, despite my constant shooting-star wishes.**

**Chapter 3**

Prowl was far beyond exhausted; it took so much effort just to lift his helm and online his optics. He let his helm fall and remained limp as he hung from the ceiling. The Praxian was covered in wounds from the tip of his chevron to the dust on his pedes. They were thickly caked in his energon; a pool of dry energon was beneath him; his frame ached all over as he shifted within the chains. Prowl registered the opening of the laboratory doors and the pedefalls of the Decepticon scientist.

"Prowl, awaken." the Cyclops ordered.

His voice was partially static as Prowl spoke, "I… ha-… b-n."

Shockwave circled the smaller mech, his single optic glowing brightly, "How is your battle computer?"

Prowl let out a groan as his processor ached at the very thought of his battle computer. Shockwave exhausted him with multiple, complex logistics; so many variables gave the most random outcomes. Everything, every single scenario, had to be precise. It tired Prowl to calculate every little detail; Shockwave had implemented complex software that prevented his processor from crashing at the informational overload. It drained him of his energies to the point where Prowl's systems almost shut down into stasis. Every time Prowl resulted with a 98% or less chance of success, Shockwave beat him with an acidic whip.

"I asked you a question; I expect an answer." growled Shockwave, "How is your battle computer?"

Prowl answered weakly with static in his voice. "Shut d-n… due t-… en-gy dr-n."

"What does it require to online?"

"En-gon co-sum-n… and an orn… -f rest." replied Prowl.

Shockwave would have frowned. That was too much waste of time. He asked another question, "What energy percentage does it require to function?"

"At 80%."

Shockwave stood still for brief moment, his processor beginning to create different energizing formulas to recover Prowl's battle computer in the shortest time possible. As he thought of different strands of drugs, he pulled out a small cube from subspace and held it in front of Prowl. The smell of fresh energon was enough to bring Prowl's optics online. He stared at the cube and he could not restrain his whine. Shockwave cupped Prowl's faceplate and said, "Open."

Prowl obeyed; he could not find reason to ignore. He was starved. He wanted fuel. The desperation was driving him. The cube was tipped lightly and Prowl gulped down its contents. The energon was downed in moments and Prowl hung limp once again. The cube was enough to give Prowl strength, but his tanks growled and groaned for more. Shockwave set aside the cube and pulled out a syringe, drawing a sample of Prowl's energon. He tucked it away in his subspace, then said, "Rest, pet. I will return."

Prowl could only nod, offlining his optics as he did so. Shockwave retreated into his chemical lab where he began to create a formula for Prowl to ingest.

…/…

Ratchet was sore from all over, his frame ached as he tried to move, but the Constructicons held him still. It was, without a doubt, Hook who had told his gestalt brothers Ratchet's actions in the med bay and together they decided to give the Autobot medic a punishment. The CMO suffered painfully. His valve burned as two spikes took their turns thrusting into him; a third spike thrust down his throat and the poor mech tried to avoid gagging.

"Hurry up, Scrapper." growled Scavenger impatiently. He wanted to have his chance with the medic before he lost his need. Scrapper sent his gestalt brother a dazed groan.

Ratchet jerked forward with a small cry as his aft was given a hard smack by Hook; he bit the spike in his mouth and Scrapper gave a shout. He pulled out and closed his cod plating with his spike tucked inside, giving Ratchet a blow to his faceplate, knocking the mech down to the ground with his aft still up.

"You fragging glitch! Ugh, dammit, that slagging hurt!" Scrapper snarled. Ratchet did not dare lift his helm and remained there, whining and whimpering.

Scrapper left, muttering curses under his breath.

Ratchet attempted to squirm away, crawling forward and away from the other two behind him, but Hook and Mixmaster held firmly onto his thighs and hips.

"Stay still!" Hook ordered, "Otherwise, the pain will be worse."

Ratchet couldn't stand the pain any longer; his servos reached for the closest support, held fast, and pulled. Scavenger intervened; kneeling and prying Ratchet's servo off of the support and positioned him so that Ratchet's helm was at his lap.

His cod plating came off with a click.

Ratchet gave Scavenger a silent plea, his optics spilling with coolant, begging him to leave him. The gestalt placed his servo behind the CMO's helm and brought it down.

…

The Constructicons were gone.

Ratchet was alone.

He ached.

He was finished with crying and now he lay on the floor, staring into the wall beside him. Ratchet could not feel his spark pulse within his chamber and for a moment, he believed it was not there anymore. He had no forces to gather from, no one to give him support.

The world, the beauty of it, had abandoned him and now, all he saw were the cruel remnants.

_Why can I not just… die? I am tired of living like this… like an animal... Why can't Primus have mercy on me?_


End file.
